. He had not heard the door
open or close, but the intruder must have entered that way. Again his
ears caught a sly scraping sound as of one walking stealthily, and the
sound was nearer the bed--between the window recess and the bed. Garth
thrust his revolver and his lamp through the narrow opening between the
curtains and pressed the control. There was no more shuffling. Nora
swayed closer. The light revealed all of Garth's doubts. He became
efficient again. For, while there was a ghoul-like quality about the
picture his lamp had suddenly illuminated, the figure bending over the
body was sufficiently human. In this position, however, because of the
dressing gown and the slippers, its sex remained undefined, but Garth,
remembering his examination of the housekeeper's room, thought he knew.
Yet he couldn't understand what the creature was doing. One hand had
partly drawn from beneath the mattress what appeared to be a long and
wide piece of jet black cloth.

"Game's up!" Garth said. "I've got you. Turn around and let me have a
look at your pretty face."

The bent shoulders twitched.

"Come!" Garth said harshly. "You're no ghost. You can't evaporate before
our eyes again."

Then with a gesture of repulsion the hand let the piece of black cloth
fall. It trailed across the floor, one end still caught beneath the
mattress. Slowly the figure turned until a profile cut against the shaft
of light. Nora cried out her surprise. Garth sprang erect, covering with
his revolver, not McDonald's daughter, but the friend of Taylor and his
wife, the man Reed.

The shock of discovery stripped Reed of his control. He glanced once at
the dead man, then sank in a chair by the bed.

"Don't send me to the death house," he groaned. "I couldn't stand that.
I won't stand that."

"You killed Taylor so you might marry his wife?" Garth shot at him.

The head jerked back and forth.

"Fortunately you did a rotten job with McDonald," Garth said. "Where's
his daughter? I don't get that."

Reed shrank farther into the chair.

"I won't answer. You can't make me say any more."

Garth stooped, lifted the black cloth, and drew it clear of the bed
beneath the mattress of which it had patently been hidden. As he held it
up it fell in folds to the floor, and he saw it had sleeves and was a
long garment without shape. But it recalled the black figure that had
vanished from the attic. He ran his lamp over the gown. In spite of the
coarse, tough ma